


Tea or coffee

by AnnaFrederieke



Category: Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:11:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFrederieke/pseuds/AnnaFrederieke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trial for a new story where a witty Audhild meets a bemused Tom Hiddleston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea or coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> I have written a very small piece as a sort of trial to a new story. Please let me know if you feel like I should continue and write this into a Tom Hiddleston fic!

 ‘Please just,’ my sister swallowed some of the delicious hot coffee as she gestured her hand to the lovely treats on the table just out of reach. ‘Pass me the damn things already.’  
‘They are so good I might as well die. God gracious I haven’t tasted such good ones in years,’ I moaned slightly uncomfortably loud for my sisters preferences as I passed the basket. ‘I swear just…’  
‘ _Poppy_!’ she exclaimed, cutting me off with a slight childish tone in her sharp voice. Next she wiggled her oval shaped head towards the one or two people that were sitting at the other end of the room, indicating they were listening. _Seriously_?  
My sister just really is a bit… complex. She very well knew taking effort in hushing me for no apparent reason wouldn’t work. Perhaps the sound escaping my lips was rather too sexual or simply too loud, but what does it even matter? It’s not every day you get to eat such perfectly sweet cinnamon buns. Because _goddamnit_ , were they amazing.  
‘As you already know, even after all those years I still don’t care, darling,’ I smiled slightly sarcastically.  
It was really, really weird though. I mean, Audhild has always been the kind of person who was just a little introvert. An aspect that came with that, was the fact that she didn’t particularly care about what others were thinking about her. As long as she was satisfied, the entire world could just shut up. Literally.  
‘That’s fine, my _dearest_ sister, but you are forgetting I can hear them.’  
‘Sure you can.’  
We were sitting in our favourite breakfast club in central London, usual corner next to the wide, open windows. Black and white tiles covered the floors, giving the place a retro vibe, with dark wooden chairs and tables standing on top of it. There were massive showcases detailed with golden trim, filled with anything anyone could desire, _especially_ us. Freshly baked cakes, glazed donuts, sandwiches of any kind, fresh salads, moist pancakes: anything, really. On the same dark wooden counter across from it, two enormous coffee machines shone next to miniature showcases full of cupcakes, muffins and other pastries. And finally, there were hydrangeas everywhere. Audhild’s favourite flowers.  
‘It’s a pity though,’ Audhild swallowed as she took another sip of her coffee, obviously changing the subject. ‘You have to drink leaf water with it.’  
‘Excuse you, _sister_ , but bean water on the other hand isn’t much better.’  
‘God, you’re a lost cause already.’  
Another wink. A friendly wink, though. A friendly wink, because we were sisters, and we would secretly always appreciate each other. Sure, we would always have some fights here and there, but in the end, we were the best of friends.  
Various people have told us we were even more than that, beyond it. Perhaps you could call it soulmates, although Audhild was a bit suspicious with that term. She thoroughly believed that such thing as ‘soulmates’ did not exist. According to her, humans could of course be loved and appreciated, but in the end you would be an individual. Just like you were born as an individual, you would die as an individual. And everything that happened during life, eventually meant you had to make it on your very own, no matter how much you tried to be different. It was about your very own success and failures.  
I, on the other hand, was much more romantic regarding such things. I kind of believed people should love every bit and piece of each other. Every shy smile, every grey hair and every scar could be loved. That all of ones imperfections were what made a person the way one was. And that without them, the world would be dull and useless. Because when you loved, infinitely adored, you would be happy. I know it’s slightly a bit too dreamy for this world, but I, for one, think it’s always better than my sister’s vision on life.  
‘Well then.’

 


End file.
